Swimming Home
by Rachel Greenwood
Summary: Set in 1930. A brief story about what goes through Rose's mind as she prepares to leave the earth. Of course, it isn't a journey she will make alone. Complete.


_Spring—1930_

Rose didn't notice the pain dissolving. One moment it was there, gripping her like claws, and the next, it was gone. She breathed deeply, luxuriating in the feeling of air moving easily through her lungs. She felt light, as if she could rise from her bed and dance. Her toes twitched. She saw herself on pointe, arms outstretched, finally putting those years of ballet lessons to good use. She smiled to herself. It wasn't really possible, but it was a nice thought. She knew the chances of ever getting up again were low—nonexistent, really, but it didn't make her sad. Instead, she felt calm, peaceful, even. This wasn't what Jack had promised, but it wasn't so bad either.

For days she thought she saw him out of the corner of her eye. He had been just off to the side, far enough away so she had to turn her head to get a good look, but each time she did, he was gone. She knew it was over the first time she saw him. He wouldn't have come if she were going to be fine. He'd never been there before, never appeared for any other illness, injury, or emotional upheaval. A few times she'd thought she felt him. The night before her wedding, she smelled him. It was as though she were in his arms again. Warmth enveloped her, and she breathed in his scent, the cottony, soapy smell of his clothes, and the slightly salty smell of his skin. Instinctively, she reached for him, but there was nothing there. A sob caught in her throat; of course he wasn't there. Except, he _had_ been. He was _right there._

"Jack," she whispered. Silence responded. For the first time she realized she had let go of him—not completely, she hadn't forgotten him, but he wasn't present in her mind. She had been content to let him be a memory, to let him be a secret in her heart.

She never doubted her decision to marry Andrew. He was smart, kind, and good-looking. He made her laugh. Being with him was easy, and she genuinely cared for him. She didn't compare him to Jack; it wouldn't have been fair to either of them. There were different kinds of love, and she didn't expect to love someone else the way she loved Jack. She didn't waste time chasing the impossible.

"How do you feel?" Andrew's brown eyes watched her with concern. She smiled. "I feel fine," she said. She took his hand. "I thought you had to go to the office," she added.

"It can wait."

"You've been putting off too many things because of me," she said. "It isn't fair."

"Life seldom is."

He was so matter-of-fact. She loved his quiet strength. He didn't fly into rages or make grand gestures, but he could make calmly stating his feelings seem like one. She wondered what he would do without her. She squeezed his hand. "You've been so wonderful," she said. "The past five years have been so wonderful." He would be fine. He would grieve, but eventually, he would look and realize he had let her become a memory. She wanted that for him. He deserved it.

"I really do feel much better," she said. "If you need to go, I understand." She didn't want him to linger at her bedside anymore. He needed to be out in the world again, and dying was something she wanted to do alone. Although, she wasn't really alone. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him. She couldn't see him clearly, but she had no doubt it was Jack, silent and just off to the side, as if he were afraid of intruding. He seemed closer now. She wondered if Andrew sensed his presence. No, she decided. Andrew didn't believe in ghosts or spirits. He was a very logical man. For him, everything had a rational explanation.

"You're sure you don't mind being alone for a few hours?" Andrew searched her face for signs of pain, fear, anything that would tell him not to go. "I'm sure," she said firmly.

"I won't be long then," he replied. He bent down and kissed her. "I love you," she said, looking up at him. "I really do."

"I know that," he replied with a smile. "I love you too."

She waited as long as she could before turning around. She frowned, disappointed at once again seeing nothing. Was she wrong? Was she really dying, or was she just hallucinating him? She sighed. Of course he wasn't there. Even if she was dying, she wasn't special. There was no reason to expect someone she loved to be there to greet her.

"You know that's not true."

Rose whipped her head around; she gasped. There he stood. He was even more beautiful than she remembered. As his voice rang in her ears, she realized her memory of it had begun to fade. Before that moment, she had only been able to clearly hear him saying certain words; the rest were gone.

"You finally let me see you," she said.

"You saw me the other times," he replied.

"That doesn't count. You hid." There was an accusatory note in her voice. "Why?"

"I wasn't supposed to be here," he explained. His expression was unreadable. "I'm not even supposed to be here now."

"Why not?"

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Rose resisted the urge to reach for him. He might disappear if she tried to touch him. "I could interfere," he said.

"You mean, keep me from dying?" she asked.

His eyes locked on hers. "Or make sure you do," he said softly. She shook her head. "You wouldn't do that," she said. "You wouldn't take a life I enjoy away from me."

"Death could've made me selfish. Watching you…it's been hard."

"You didn't have to watch me," she said. His gaze felt like hands on her body. "I haven't been able to look away from you since the first time I saw you," he said. She held her breath. "And I wanted to be sure you'd be all right," he continued. "Even if there was nothing I could do."

"You've been here the entire time?"

He nodded. "More or less."

"Weren't you supposed to…go on? Don't you have to?"

"It's been strongly encouraged," he laughed. "But they can't make me go."

Rose's head spun. She wanted him here; it felt right to have him here. But was it? She struggled with her words. "Am I betraying him?" she asked finally. "Being with you now?"

"Do you think you are?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "But I don't just want to be with you now. I want to be with you…afterwards. I know it's coming, and you aren't making it happen. I've felt it getting closer, and when I woke up, I knew it would be today. That's why I sent Andrew away. He couldn't be here for this…I didn't want him to be here for this."

"Are you afraid?"

"Were you?"

"No," he answered. "It crept up on me. I was gone before I knew it. Suddenly, I was flying, so high and so fast."

"You were the shooting star," Rose said.

Jack grinned. "Was I?"

"I saw it. You," she said. "Right before the boat arrived, before I knew you had…" She trailed off. "It's absurd," she laughed. "Of all the times to not be able to say it." She fell back against the pillows, overwhelmed with fatigue. Her head was heavy. "What were you trying to do—" Speaking was now a struggle. Where had that marvelous lightness gone? "That night—before my wedding?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It just wanted to be near you again."

She tried to sound teasing. "Oh, jealous were you?"

"I still wanted you to marry him," Jack replied. "I knew you'd marry someone eventually, and I'm glad you chose him."

"He'll—he'll find someone better," she said. "Someone..." Breathing was so difficult now. "Who will love him the way he deserves….at least we made each other happy for a little while…" She shivered. It felt like a cold wind was blowing through the room. She tried to pull the blanket up, but she could barely move. Jack lay down next to her. "I'll keep you warm," he said, wrapping his arms around her. She sank against him with a sigh. He was solid. He was real. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. "Jack," she whispered. Warmth washed over her. Jack lifted her head and gently cupped her cheek. "_Should_ I be afraid?" she asked.

"No," he said reassuringly.

"You'll be there?"

"You jump, I jump, remember?" His thumb caressed her face. "I can't go without you."

And then he was kissing her. Softly at first, but it quickly grew in intensity. Everything else began melting away. It was just the two of them—their kisses, their embrace. Rose's life began to seem like a distant dream. Perhaps it had just all been a dream, and now she was waking up. She couldn't imagine ever being away from Jack. She felt them flying through the air and then through water. They clung even more tightly to one another, determined to remain together through whatever came next.


End file.
